


Angus McDonald's Guide To High School

by brokenspaces



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, One Shot, angus goes to school and meets the birds, lol it's kinda garbage ngl, might make more idk, probably should edit this but I won't lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:47:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24059206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenspaces/pseuds/brokenspaces
Summary: Angus McDonald was a ten-year-old in high school. That is to say, he was doomed.
Relationships: Angus McDonald & Taako, Davenport/Merle Highchurch, Magnus Burnsides & Taako
Comments: 15
Kudos: 132





	Angus McDonald's Guide To High School

**Author's Note:**

> I made a high school au headcanon thing one time and now I wrote it last night and posting it without editing or nothing. I think I just miss high school kinda. I'm so tired lol. The pacing is Real Fucked Up. I apologize.  
> Idk I might make more chapter sometime

Angus McDonald was a ten-year-old in high school. That is to say, he was doomed. 

He knew this before he walked into the doors of Faerun High. He  _ had _ read books. The point was only further hammered in as he weaved through the crowds of lanky teenagers, all of whom were much taller than him and looked at him strangely. Some girl in a leather jacket slid past him on the railing of the stairs, and a hall monitor yelled at her from the second floor. He realized that his sweater vest and newsboy cap didn’t help any. No, his best fancy lad clothes were not appropriate for this at all. As he scanned the crowds he came to a second realization.

He was super doomed. 

Angus took a deep breath. Eyes to the ground. 

Go. 

He had memorized the map of the school well enough to avoid asking anyone any directions. Angus wasn’t unaware of the fact a ten-year-old attending high school was the catalyst for a lot of unwanted attention, so the more he could minimize his impact the better. He ran straight to the counselor’s office.

Tragedy strikes. His head barely reaches the top of the counter. Angus is left to awkwardly tap at the desk to find a bell, hoping he doesn’t look too stupid. 

“D’ya need any help there, bud?” Angus whirled around, standing at his full four and a half feet. Looking at the very short old man with a beard that looked like a health violation he wasn’t sure if there was any need for it. 

“Uh, I’m looking for Mr. Highchurch. Do you know where I could find him, sir?” 

The man chuckled. “Sir, huh? Well, young man, look no further. I am he.” Mr. Highchurch bent down like he was going to his level, but he wasn’t much taller than Angus and ended up having to crane to see him. “Please, call me Merle.”

“Okay, sir. I’m Angus McDonald, the transfer student. They said I had to go to you for my schedule?” Angus prompted. 

Mr. Highchurch squinted at him. “Oh, you’re the kid genius, huh? You’re short for a prodigy, huh?” Angus bit back a comment about the counselor’s own height. “Ah, well, I’m one to talk,” he sighed, then started to waddle further into the office. “Okay, one moment.”

‘One moment’, Angus came to understand, meant two and a half minutes, and Mr. Highchurch needed at least five ‘one moment’s to get to his office, and at least five more to hand him a sheet of paper and send him on his way. Also, he was pretty sure he was growing weed in his office. 

By the time he got to class any hopes of making a discreet entrance were well and truly screwed. The class burst out in whispers when he shuffled in. The teacher was talking, and the only thing worse than coming in late was interrupting the  _ teacher _ . 

So Angus spent the first ten minutes of his high school career standing in the corner. He knows because he spent those ten minutes counting on the clock so he couldn’t think about the entire class of students staring at him. He wanted to melt into the floor a little bit. 

His geography teacher was also pretty short, with neat, red hair and a neat, red mustache. Mr. Davenport seemed nice enough, an ex-fighter pilot by the looks of his posture. Angus filed the information away alongside the timer in his brain. At exactly ten minutes, Mr. Davenport noticed him. 

“And I’ll email you abo-- Oh, hey there.” Davenport’s voice softened to the usual I’m-an-adult-talking-to-a-child-that-might-be-lost tone. Angus was familiar. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Angus McDonald, the transfer student,” he said in the steadiest tone he could muster. “H-here’s my late slip, sir.” A group of girls near the front cooed at him. He resented that. 

Mr. Davenport didn’t blink. He took the paper, pointed to a desk in the back, and continued his lecture. Angus has never sat down faster. 

The girl next to him had short, curly hair that was bleached white, a blue peacoat. She was reading under the desk and doodling in her notebook with her other hand. Angus busied himself with organizing his desk. His folder and notebook stacked, lined up next to his Caleb Cleveland pencil case. 

The girl next to him was staring at him.

“I’m Lucretia,” she said. “Can I interview you for the school newspaper?” 

Angus froze. His goal was to keep the lowest profile possible for a ten-year-old in high school. He was a  _ detective _ . He needed  _ stealth. _ Making school news would not be stealthy in the least bit. But he couldn’t just say that. He scrambled for an excuse.

“It’s cool if you don’t want to, though.” Lucretia settled back to her book and drawing. “Just heard some teachers say a kid genius was coming to school, heard about some child detective in the news, made the connection. I thought it would be more fun than another article about, like, vaping or whatever.” The scribbling on her paper was slowly forming into a surprisingly detailed picture of a jellyfish, crawling across the page. Lucretia’s eyes stayed trained on her book. A furrow appeared in her brow, and she looked up. “Wait, you’re a detective. Do you want to join the newspaper?”

“Yes!” Angus gasped, then hastily glanced at Mr. Davenport. He wasn’t heard. 

Surprisingly, people didn’t want to hire a literal child to do their investigations. A  _ real _ (albeit school) newspaper was a perfect outlet for his conspiracies. Also, he was a cheeky child detective. Joining the school newspaper felt like it fit the aesthetic.

Lucretia rifled through her notebook, then tore out a page. It was a hand-drawn flyer for the newspaper club. The classroom listed was Mr. Davenport’s. He took it, and she went back to her scribbling. 

“See you there.” 

Angus stared down at the paper at his hand.  _ Is this making friends? _

_ \-- _

Angus had decided by math class that high school was far stranger than books had led him to believe. During passing periods alone he had seen a girl with a mohawk do a  _ sweet _ flip, the girl that slid down the bars of the stairs making out with the hall monitor that had yelled at her, and a boy in a lab coat cackling over something suspicious in his locker. 

Angus was seated in the back of Pre-Calc next to a boy with a purple braid and a giant hat. He was wearing a jacket over a pinafore over a button-up over a sheer turtleneck over another top. He had no backpack, just a half-empty Starbucks cup and a phone with the  _ Taako _ scrawled across the case. Angus was worried when he saw the guy wasn’t moving, then realized he was fully asleep. 

Mr. Jenkins started droning on and Angus dutifully took his notes, forgetting about the guy passed out next to him. 

Then he heard someone clear his throat beside him. ‘Taako’ was dramatically lowering his star-shaped tinted glasses. 

“You’re a child,” he said in a lilting voice.

“I noticed,” Angus replied. “You look familiar.” His voice definitely sounded familiar.

“I’m  _ Taako _ , you know? From Tik Tok?” 

Oh, yeah, Angus thought he saw one of them in a compilation before, something about umbrellas. 

“Why is a child in Pre-Calc?” Taako asked.

“Because I want to take Calculus next year.” 

“Ha ha. No, but really, why is there a five-year-old in my class?”

“I’m ten. My name is Angus McDonald.”

“Are you fucking with me?” (The answer was yes, a little bit).

“No, my name is Angus.” He smiled. “I’m the World’s Greatest Detective.” 

Taako studied him as he groped for his Starbucks, then took an obnoxious sip. Mr. Jenkins sighed with his full body.

“Taako, you join the land of the living.” Taako stared him straight in the eyes and took another loud drink. “Can you tell me the answer to the question on the board?” He gestured to the long string of numbers on the board.

“Answer your own questions, you’re the math expert,” Taako grumbled. “Jenkins, why is there a child in my class?”

“First of all, this is not your class. Second of all, it’s  _ Mr. _ Jenkins. And third of all, you need to tell me the answer of the question or I’ll write you up.” The dragging tone of his voice sounded too familiar to Angus to be deja vu. He took out his Mystery Notebook to find a reference.

“It’s 24,” Taako answered without missing a beat. “Now answer  _ my _ question.”

The Rockport Limited.

Angus’ hand shot up. 

“Uh, yes, Angus?”

“Have you ever known a train conductor named Hudson?”

\--

Angus supposed he shouldn’t talk about keeping a low profile and then break a cold case in the middle of math class. The class was sent to work quietly in the library while arrests were made. Taako plopped down next to him.

“So, Agnes… you’re an actual child detective.”

“Yeah,” Angus said, staring down at the page. He was stuck on number three. His pencil was plucked from his hand, Taako leaning over to write on his paper.

“You don’t divide that, yeah?” Angus frowned and looked at the paper. Oh. 

“You’re right,” Angus said, then re-worked the problem easily. 

Taako helped Angus with his homework through the rest of the period, all the while complaining about  _ homework _ being assigned on the first day of school. “It’s  _ homophobia _ ,” he insisted. When the bell rang for lunch, Taako abruptly stood up, walking away. 

Angus felt a little sad. He thought that they were building a rapport. 

“Are you coming, Ango?” Taako called. Angus beamed, scrambling for his stuff. Again, he wondered if this was how one makes friends.

Taako walked in long strides, slouching, somehow dodging everyone in the hall. Angus had to trot to follow after him, but he had to trot to keep up with the majority of people he worked with. Angus would say he’s an observant person, but he didn’t need to be to notice the tall, clunky guy barrelling toward them. 

He was over six feet tall, with sideburns (in the year of our lord 2020?) and the cuffs of his jeans ended a bit too short over his ankles. A metal duck charm hung from his neck.

“Hail and well met!” he boomed. Something screaming  _ low-profile _ rushed through his brain a moment before Magnus slammed into Taako, scooping him up into a hug. Taako squawked and squirmed out of his hold. 

“Fucking  _ hell _ , Maggie!” he said, but he didn’t look upset to see this guy. “Give a guy a warning!”

Magnus paid no mind to him, instead of crouching down to talk to Angus. “Hail and well met !”

“I’m Angus McDonald,” he said, holding a hand out. “You’re very loud.” Oh shit, that wasn’t supposed to be said. 

Magnus didn’t seem to mind. He took Angus’ hand, strangely gentle as he shook his hand. Magnus’ hand entirely dwarfed his. The nail polish on his fingers was chipped, and his hand was warm and calloused. 

“He’s the World’s Greatest Detective,” Taako said, then started to walk away. Magnus and Angus both stumbled to follow after him.

“I’m Magnus ‘The Hammer’ Burnsides!” he shouted.

“No one calls you that,” Taako called behind them. 

“Did you make that duck?” Angus asked. 

Magnus’ smile somehow grew. “No, my girlfriend Julia made it! I carved her a duck, and so she made me a matching one! Isn’t it pretty?” It was, indeed, pretty

They took a sharp turn into an empty classroom. The one, Angus noted, that was listed on the newspaper flyer. 

It was, thankfully, quieter in the classroom. Lucretia was there, reading and taking notes, and Mr. Davenport was typing away at his desk. Mr. Highchurch was sitting next to him, complaining loudly about something. There was a guy he didn’t recognize too, someone wearing jeans with a jean jacket, eating a bag of chips and reading something on his computer. Taako immediately sprawled over three chairs, pulling out a bento box from somewhere in his ensemble. Angus sat down at an empty desk, quietly arranging his lunch into neat rows.

Magnus slung an arm around Angus’ shoulder. “This is Ango--”

“Angus McDonald.”

“Ango, this is Lucretia, Cap’n’port and Merle Highchurch, and Barry Bluejeans.” At the sound of his name, Barry waved awkwardly with orange-dusted fingers 

“We’ve met,” Lucretia said. “He’s our new investigative journalist.” Angus straightened a bit at the title.

“He broke Jenkins,” Taako added. His lunch was neatly sectioned out and looked straight out of a magazine or something. Angus looked down at his PB&J.

He couldn’t complain, though. It was a good PB&J. 

“Shit, I had money on that,” Mr. Highchurch said from his perch on Mr. Davenport’s desk. “I was sure I would be the one to do it.”

“No, you were going to break me if you kept calling his home sauna a ‘pleasure chamber’,” Mr. Davenport sniffed. “I have a reputation, Merle.” 

“Mneh mneh mneh mneh mneh mneh mneh,  _ Merle _ ,” Mr. Highchurch echoed. Mr. Davenport rolled his eyes fondly. 

“If it makes you feel better, the rest of us had money on Taako,” he said. 

Angus glanced over at Barry, who was sitting at the desk next to him. “What are you reading?” he asked out of curiosity, then regretted it when Barry just stared straight to the ground and blushed. “ _ Oh _ .”

“No! No, not that,” Barry stuttered out. He turned the screen towards Angus. It was a study about the decay of human bodies, the kind used by forensic scientists. “I-It looks creepy, I know, but--”

“I know this author!” Angus said. He decided to ignore the ‘oh no, there’s  _ two of them _ ,’ coming from Taako. “Did you read the one where she went into detail about how different temperatures affect the process?”

Barry looked startled, then excited. “ _ Yes _ . Do you have a favorite one? Because my favorite one is--”

“Barry, no murder talk during lunch, please,” Mr. Davenport said. 

“Is it just me, or is it creepier when the child does it?” Merle asked. Angus ducked his head.

“It helps with investigations,” is all he said. 

Outside, the hall had settled to a steady thrum of talking. Angus watched Mr. Davenport and Mr. Highchurch start a card game he’s never seen before. 

“Hey,” Magnus said into the silence. “Where’s Lup?”

“She has a thing,” Taako said through a mouthful of rice. 

“What kind of thing?” Barry asked, tearing his eyes away from the screen. 

The crackling of the PA system cut through the steady noise of the hall. 

“Will the following people report to the office,” someone’s voice echoed through the school. Mr. Davenport immediately stood up, swore, and ran out of the room. Taako kicked his feet up and started to eat popcorn out of one of his many pockets. The voice had the same lilt as Taako’s voice as it listed off names, announced the basketball game, and advertised auditioning for the school play.

“--and I promise there will be no pyrotechnic accidents in this year’s play, as I have been kicked off of the special effects team. In other news--”

“I don’t get it,” Angus said. “It’s just the announcements.”

“ _ Greg Grimaldis _ !” The microphone whined with feedback when she shouted, and Angus cringed at the deafening noise. “You owe me 15 dollars and I aim to collect! You better believe, Greg Grimaldis! There’s not going to be any fire accidents in the play but there might be one real close to you if I don’t get my money! You better believe,  _ Greg Grimaldis _ !” 

There was the sound of the door slamming open, and Davenport’s distant voice pleading, “Lup, please don’t drop the mic--” and then the clattering and feedback that Angus could only assume was the mic being dropped. Taako, Magnus, Lucretia, and Mr. Highchurch burst into cackling laughter. Barry chuckled to himself. Angus, personally, feared for Greg Grimaldis. 

The door burst open, Mr. Davenport leading a laughing girl behind him. Her hair was loose and dyed bright orange, and she wore a fishnet top under a cut-off shirt and cargo pants. She looked a lot like Taako. 

“Lup, I can’t bail you out again,” Mr. Davenport said, and he looked  _ incredibly  _ tired. “Please stop misusing the PA system, and please. Don’t. Drop. The. Mic.” 

Lup was too busy high-fiving Magnus to heed Mr. Davenport

“And you  _ aim to collect _ . Jesus, Lulu, you’re a gem,” Taako gasped out. 

“I’m aware,” she said. She sat backward on the chair in front of Barry, leaning over his computer. “How’d I do, Barold?”

“I liked the fire threat. It was clever,” he said shyly. Like that was something one could say shyly. “Reading the body decaying one again? Is it the one that takes burning into consideration or--” Lup’s gaze landed on Angus. “Oh shit, a child.”

“Hi, ma’am! I’m Angus McDonald!” he said for maybe the millionth time that day. His boyish charm supply was getting low.

“He’s the World’s Greatest Detective,” Taako added. “He broke Jenkins.”

“I had money on that,” Lup groaned. 

“I would have put money on Taako too, ma’am, if I didn’t figure out he did murder and a robbery,” he said. “The Starbucks was a nice touch. But again, murder.”

Lup stared at him, suddenly serious. “You are my favorite child.” 

“Thank you?” he squeaked out, suddenly nervous. “I liked your announcement. Will you really set that guy on fire?”

Lup laughed for a good thirty seconds. “I’m glad you liked it,” she said. Which wasn’t an answer. 

(Lup fucking  _ aimed to collect _ ) 

She settled into her chair, retrieving her own beautifully plated bent box from her bag. Barry launched into a conversation about setting bodies on fire, the teachers too invested in their card game to scold. Taako kept pulling food out of his pockets and reacting dramatically, Lucretia doing her thing and occasionally giving out a dry comment. Magnus was loud and bright and slung arms over shoulders and whatnot. Angus felt comfortable.

Oh. This is what making friends is like. 


End file.
